


Don't Take This Sinner From Me

by Johnlocked221b



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Demon Dean Winchester, Drug Use, M/M, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 01:01:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1799701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnlocked221b/pseuds/Johnlocked221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Dean wakes up, things went down-hill fast...especially for Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Take This Sinner From Me

Surprisingly enough, the first time they actually have sex is in the fall of 2014. Orange and yellow covered the ground of Camp Chitaqua and it would have almost been pretty if there weren't splatters of blood among them. The air was a crisp, cool breath on the skin and the only sounds around were Dean cursing and Cas sobbing in pain. His ankle was twisted in a way it really shouldn't have been and he’d scraped his knees on the fall. The irony in that was almost hilarious…you know, if Cas hadn't been hurt and loud enough to draw something near with his pathetic whimpers. After the stolen grace had burned out and Dean had turned, Cas had pretty much gone way downhill. Fast. The angels had thinned out pretty quickly when he started popping the pills for every kind of pain imaginable; the burning inside both physical and emotional, the guilt unfathomable. And now this. God, he felt useless. And that just made everything worse. It was a vicious cycle.   
Dean carried him back to his little love shack while Cas’ head lolled back and forth. Dean was pissed. For good reason. “I fuckin’ told you not to get high before a Croat mission. What are you even on?”  
Cas didn't answer. He didn't want to break Dean’s heart even more…or what was left of it. What was a heart with a swirling black hole for a soul anyway?  
Once inside the little shack, Dean lay the ex-angel on his “orgy-bed” which was really just a king-sized, leftover mattress that didn't suck but was too…stained to sleep on. There weren't even sheets on it for god’s sake. Cas let out a whine as he was set down and Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah, it would feel a lot worse if you weren't so doped up so be glad for that.” He frowned as he watched Cas take two more, small white tablets with a swallow of whiskey but said nothing more than, “Is that bottle from my ten-Cas, I told you not to be takin’ my shit. Isn't like that stuff’s bein’ made anymore ya damn alcoholic.”  
Cas only closed his eyes to the world and tried to come up with some witty remark that would make Dean stop worrying so much.  
Much to everyone’s surprise, being a Knight of Hell didn't really change Dean much. Sure, it made him angrier and rougher, but he was still the brooding, surly, alcoholic geek he’d always been. Just more brooding and more surly and slightly less alcohol…which ramped up the bitterness and the constant paranoia. Fucking Croats.  
He cried out when Dean took off his boot without waiting for the pain to edge away in the blur of what he’d taken. His ankle looked like it had been dipped in black and blue  and purple pant, swollen to the size of a balloon and Dean hissed. “This ain't gonna be a walk in the park. I gotta set it and wrap it.”  
Cas pushed a hand through his hair, wild and unruly from months without a proper cut. “Do it…Hurry.”  
Dean sighed and patted his knee. “I’ll be back. Don’t move.”  
Like he could anyway.  
When Dean came back with the bandage he’d taken off of some other dude’s wrist and two planks to hold it in place, Cas was almost asleep. At least, he was nodding off like he was sleepy. Or maybe that was just the Oxy. Either way, this would be a lot easier than if Cas were sober…though Dean desperately wished he were. He really hated seeing the angel brought so low. He knew he felt guilty about not being there when Metatron “killed” him. He knew he felt horrible that it had been his blade that did the killing, and even that he’d allowed him to turn. Wasn't like he could have helped it. Dean was too far gone on the mark anyway. And he knew about addictions; at least, with all the Croats running around, he didn't have to go around killing innocent people. He had an excuse to kill; in fact, it was mandatory.  
The noise Cas’ ankle made when Dean straightened it out was sickening and the soft whine of blissed-out pain (instead of a scream) that Cas made was heartbreaking. Dean stayed quiet the entire time he was wrapping and setting his ankle. The silence was only broken when Dean had gotten up to leave and hand wrapped weakly around his wrist. “Stay.” He said. “Please…’m…if you leave…’m gonna take more…” Cas nodded off and then snapped awake. “Don’ wanna die yet.”  
Dean frowned. Cas was fucked up. He probably didn't even know what he was asking. He probably wouldn't remember it..  
But nothing could make Dean go. Instead, he carefully scooped him up and carried him into a back room, through the beaded doorway and to the slightly smaller bed with clean(er) sheets. Dean knocked the empty bottle off as he lay the man on the sheets and crawled in beside him. Cas, still not understanding the concept of personal space, pressed as close to his side as he could possibly get without letting anything touch his injured ankle. That meant his breath was lightly ghosting over Dean’s jaw and his arm was slung over his stomach…  
Dean didn't sleep. Demons never did. He just stared up at the wooden slats of the ceiling and thought about Old Cas. Cas before the shitstorm. Before Sam had been…Just Cas. He thought about Cas.  
~  
Cas rolled onto his back a few hours later and groaned as he blinked up at the ceiling. His ankle was throbbing and the pain was enough to bring tears to his eyes. He almost forgot there was a body next to him until it spoke. “How’s the ankle?”  
Cas turned his head and squinted at him in the darkness. He could just see the outline of Dean in the moonlight before rolling over to feel for his pills. “Hurts.”  
"It’ll do that for a while." The hunter nodded, sitting up and stretching. "Can I go?"  
Cas swallowed two tablets and rolled onto his back to glance over. “You didn't have to stay.”  
"You told me to."  
"Did I?" Cas hummed, lips quirking up at the corners as he shrugged. "You didn't have to."  
"You said you’d kill yourself if I didn't." Dean countered, growing frustrated.  
Cas sighed and steepled his fingers on his stomach. “Yeah, well…I probably would have, I guess. Not on purpose, though it is tempting.”  
"You saying you want to kill yourself?" Dean growled.  
"I didn’t say that." Cas held up a finger.  
Dean frowned.  
"Look. I’m just saying, things aren't good where I’m at. I’m useless. The ‘dirty hippie.’ with the broken ankle and the talented tongue." Cas shrugged. "I’m not going to kill myself; I just think it wouldn't be much of a loss if something happened." He struck a match and lit a candle. He turned back to look up at Dean, who had crawled over with a dark, dangerous look.  
"Don’t fucking say that."  
Cas swallowed.  
Dean’s hand was around his wrist, thin from undernourishment. “Don’t. You have no idea.” His voice shook with what sounded like anger, but Cas knew was bubbling agony. “You have no idea what that would do…”  
"Shh…" Cas soothed, setting a hand on his shoulder and sliding it down his arm. "I’m sorry. I didn't mean it like that."  
Dean searched his eyes,”You’re all I have left. You are my best friend.” His voice broke a little. “My last good thing…family. I need you. I nee-” He huffed.   
Cas nodded and gently squeezed his hand. “I know.”  
Dean shook his head. “I don’t deserve this…you…any of this. If they knew out there…” His eyes flickered to black.  
Cas didn't look away. “Cursed or not; I’d rather have you.”  
Dean searched Cas’ dull, dilated blue eyes for a few minutes and then surged forward to smash their lips together. His hand went up to grip at Cas’ crazy, dark, dirty hair and the other at his jaw.  
It took the ex-angel a few seconds to register that this wasn't another Oxycontin-induced wet dream. He would taste the salt and the liquor and the stale cigarettes on his tongue. He could feel his chapped lips and his warm tongue and he could hear the desperate breathing through his nose. Dean was warm and real and so beautiful. He was alive and he was right there.   
Cas’ hand went over to fiddle with the battery-powered radio/CD-player and he was just able to press play before Dean was crawling into his lap and straddling his hips. Pink Floyd wafted through the silence and Cas’ hands went to work pushing Dean’s dark green utility jacket over his shoulders. Dean’s hands left Cas’ face one at a time to pull free from the sleeves and toss the material to the floor. Meanwhile Cas’ hands went to his thighs, fingers sliding beneath the straps of his thigh holster as Dean reached back to pull his beige Henley up and off. Newly shirtless, panting and breathless, lips swollen and pink and wet from saliva, Dean Winchester was a wet dream come true. Cas quickly tugged his matching blue Henley off quickly and tossed it to the side with Dean’s. In fact, it had been Dean’s at one point; up until the hunter had demanded that he put the trench coat in the closet and dress more sensibly for the job. Secretly, the dirty blue shirt was his favorite.  
Cas’ hands slid over Dean’s chest, gently smoothing over his many scars, the marred tattoo over his heart and the dusting of freckles over his shoulders. His hand moved over to wrap around his shoulder…the shoulder. The shoulder where his mark had been all of those years ago. He missed that mark. Finally, Dean had enough and leaned in to attach his lips to Cas’ long neck.  
Cas’ eyes slipped closed and he let out a soft noise of contentment. Everything was going so much slower that it usually did with the girls in the camp. They were hungry; mad for touch and a few minutes of release…and Castiel was happy to give it. He was happy to work his way down and take care of them all in one night if he had to. After some experience, he was skilled in the area of giving a girl the climax she needed, and fast. And after, he would kiss her forehead and remind her that she was valued. That was the most important part.  
Dean’s plump lips worked gently over his throat and behind his ear, hips rolling against the other man’s and hands working at Castiel’s belt. Once he got the button undone and the zipper down, the kissed back up to Cas’ pale lips and began working at his own. Dean grunted when he had to move away to get his jeans down, unstrapping the holster around his thigh and kicking them to the side. One boot fell on its side in the haste and then Dean’s hands were working at Cas’ light blue pair.   
Cas began to move but Dean set a hand on his stomach and shook his head. “Don’t move.”  
Castiel smiled then and leaned back against the wall, just watching Dean and lifting his hips when necessary. Dean was very careful about getting the denim from around his ankle, but Cas still hissed.   
Then, Dean was on him again, kissing his lips and rocking against his lap slow and gentle. Pink Floyd’s ‘Hey You’ set the speed perfectly.   
He pulled away for a deep breath and pulled gently at Castiel’s bottom lip as their foreheads pressed flush and their fingers threaded at Dean’s thigh. “How are you feeling?” Dean’s voice was softer than he’d heard in a long time.  
"I’m okay. I want this." Cas whispered, meeting his eyes.  
Dean nodded and swallowed hard, to which Cas kissed his chin. “Shh…it’s okay.”  
Dean nodded again and wriggled out of his boxers, kicking them away and leaving himself bare in the moonlight.  
Cas’ breath hitched as he took in the sight. If he’d thought the man was beautiful before; clothed Dean had nothing on this.  
He glowed. His skin was sunkissed and his lashes long. His lips were swollen and he was all muscle in his arms and back. His stomach was firm, yet soft and kissible; thighs dotted with millions of tiny freckles. There was a line of perfect dark hair leading from his navel, between the deep V of his hips and to the small patch surrounding his albeit perfect erection. The moon bathed him in an ethereal glow that was almost angelic, and to this side, the candle highlighted the shadows in his muscles and the constellations on his cheeks.   
Dean shifted under his gaze, and took their joined hands to his cock with a small, breathy moan and fluttering eyelashes. Castiel got the hint and wrapped his fingers around him completely. Dean’s lips parted and his head tilted back slightly as he began rolling into his grip and the movement of Cas’ hand.  
"O-oh…"  
Castiel watched him carefully, admiring the way Dean's face contorted in pleasure and then relaxed as if every bit of pressure that had been laid upon his shoulders all of these years was disappearing...even if for just a few minutes. Dean deserved release.  
Cas thumbed at his head and then spread pre-come down his shaft as a temporary lubricant. Blue eyes traveled down Dean's body once again, taking in everything before settling on his cock. It was swollen and pink, curving up with impressive length and girth. The large vein that ran up the underside throbbed with need, his entire cock glistening with the pre-come that continued to bubble out of his glans. At the base of his cock, dark and surprisingly neatly trimmed curls led to further inspection of his tight and perfect pair of heavy testicles. He was perfect. Perfectly Dean in every way. Even his musk was driving Castiel crazy. His hands went to Dean's buttocks, firm and smooth, to pull him forward. Dean complied, walking with his knees, up until he could feel his head brush against pale lips. Christ, if that wasn't a sight.  
Cas took the glans between his lips and gently lapped at his slit, earning a desperate moan from Dean and hands tangling in his hair. Cas listened to his noises as he pressed Dean closer in order to get more of a mouthful. Soon, he was completely sheathed in Cas' mouth and thanking his absent father for his lack of gag reflex. Dean seemed to be thanking Him too, if the "Oh God..." and "Jesus Christ's" were anything to go by.   
Cas began bobbing his head, using his tongue to lap at anything he could reach as he did so. It flicked up and down his dorsal vein and then across the frenulum, sending Dean into whiny, whimpering gasps. One hand left his hair to press against the wall and he squeezed his eyes shut. "Fucking hell...more." Cas complied by hollowing out his cheeks and pulling up and then pushing down and then back up. He let Dean pop from his mouth to lick freely at him as if he were a Popsicle. He even added in some moans and then began sucking him off again. Dean's body was a bright, flushed red by now. He was so turned on it hurt and the wet hot heat of Cas' mouth was driving him closer and closer to where he didn't want to be yet. "W-wait..." He forced him self to say, voice coming out as more of a pained whisper than anything. "Not yet."  
Cas pulled off, heart aching a bit. Did Dean not want this anymore? Was he suddenly changing his mind? Was his blowjob shitty?  
Dean panted as he moved back down to Cas' lap. "Fuck...you have no idea how bad I just wanna come down your throat right now."  
"Then why don't you?" He even threw in a little head-tilt. Damn the head-tilt. Damn Castiel with his big blue eyes and his thick, swollen lips. Damn him with his crazy, fucked-up hair and his tongue and his fucking head-tilt. Damn that especially.  
He breathed hard. "Because I don't want to come yet."  
Yet.   
Castiel smiled and tugged him into another kiss, lapping into Dean's mouth to give him a good taste of himself. Dean must have liked that because he wasn't stopping, and Cas needed more information. He pushed him away lightly, lips brushing against the demon's as he spoke. "So how do you want to come?"  
"On your cock." It was spoken so plainly. So filthy and dirty and fucking without shame that Cas almost lost it right there. He rocked up into Dean and groaned. "Shit...grab my oils then. Under my bed."  
Dean nodded. Of course he had oils under his bed. He always had some in arms-length. Dean had even found a couple of bottles in the storage shed. He crawled off of Cas' body and onto the floor, reaching under the bed and feeling about. His hand came in contact with something hard and angular and he pulled it out. It was a box. Cas peeked from the edge of the mattress and his eyes grew. "Well, yes, there are oils in there...but there are other things too so be prep-"  
"Holy fucking shit, Cas."  
"You know, at one time I would be offended at that statement."  
"You have toys. And not just toys but _toys_." He pulled out a large, purple dildo that was at least eight inches long and two in diameter. "Can you really fit that in..."  
Cas blushed and hid his face in a pillow. "Dean..."  
"No, I wanna know."   
"Yes...it took some work, but I can do it." He admitted.  
"Fuck...you have everything." He pulled out the beads and then the cone and the massasager until he got to the bottom. There was a photo. It had been taken with a Polaroid. In the photo, Dean was shirtless, shooting a gun. He had on a rage pout and he was sweaty from a day of training, jeans riding dangerously low on his hips the day he'd gone commando.  
Dean pulled it out and blinked at it a few times. "I really am the gay dude's dream."  
Cas groaned. "Dean, put it away."  
"Did you take this?' He asked, his tone light and teasing. _Like old Dean._ "You're such a fucking perv."  
A pillow came from the bed and knocked him in the face. Dean laughed and put the photo back in the box, grabbing a bottle of lubricant. He pushed the box back under the bed and gently placed the discarded pillow under Cas' foot after tugging off his boxers.  
Cas was milky white and baby smooth. He was completely hairless except for the patch of dark curls that surrounded the base of his beautifully curved penis. Dean could spend hours down there, licking and sucking, but that was for another day.   
Right now, he was crawling back into his best-friend-second-in-command-turned-lover's lap and breathing deep. "So do I just...go at it?"  
Cas shook his head. "God no. You'll hurt yourself." He took the bottle and opened the cap. "I have to prepare you."  
"Like finger me?"  
"In crude terms, yes." Cas smiled, squirting a generous amount of jelly into his palm. "Is that okay? Would you rather do it yourself?"   
Dean shook his head. "N-no...it's fine. You have more experience...in that area, so you do it."  
Castiel nodded and coated three of his fingers in the lube before reaching around to massage at his buttocks. Dean's eyelashes fluttered and he let out a pleased noise, though it became surprised when a cold finger stroked between the two perfect globes and across his entrance. He even shuddered a bit and Cas looked up at him, brow creasing.  
"I'm okay. Go ahead." Dean nodded.  
Cas gently and cautiously pushed the tip of his middle finger. Dean hissed and closed his eyes tight. Cas smoothed his other hand up and down his arm. "Shh...just relax. Deep breaths. It'll sting, but I won't hurt you. I promise."  
Dean nodded and did as he was told, taking a deep breath in and then letting it out. He relaxed on the exhale and Cas was able to slide in the first finger. Dean let out a moan and Cas took that as a sign to do more. He gently and carefully moved the digit in and out, twisting a bit and stretching when necessary. Dean quivered and then bit his lip as Cas pulled his finger out to the tip and pressed a second along-side it. "Deep breaths, Dean. I've got you."  
Dean continued to control his breathing, relaxing his muscles around Castiel's fingers as they scissored and twisted and wriggled inside of him. Cas watched for any signs of unnecessary pain, but he could tell that any sting was dissolving into pleasure; especially when he brushed that little bundle of nerves. Dean bucked forward and let out a cry of pleasure. "Fucking shit...do that again."  
Cas smirked. Found it. He worked his fingers inside of him and massaged that spot until Dean was a moaning, shuddering mess. The third digit was an easy insertion at this point and soon, Dean was begging for more, rocking back on his fingers and whimpering.  
He even took the lubricant and slicked up Cas' cock for him. The dark-haired man moaned loudly as he'd been neglected in taking care of Dean.  
It was time.  
Dean was eager to have something, _anything_ inside of him now. He was climbing atop Cas and lining up before Cas' lust-addled brain could catch up with his hands and grip at his hips. "Careful...fingers are a bit different."  
"Fuck, Cas. I'm a big boy. I won't break. I need you in me _now_." He whined.  
Cas chuckled lightly. "Alright, just...slow. I promised I wouldn't hurt you."  
Dean rolled his eyes, but nodded his agreement. Cas took a deep breath and then gently pushed upwards as Dean pressed down. His head breached his fluttering rim and Dean gasped. "Oh...oh yes."  
Cas licked his lips and slowly pushed up slow and steady until Dean was completely seated in his lap, both moaning loudly. He forced himself still until Dean could relax properly. The man in his lap had his palms resting on Castiel's shoulders, eyes shut tight, and was breathing long and deep. His walls gripped at Cas' shaft greedily, but they were slowly easing off a bit as Dean became more and more relaxed. _Finally_ , Dean was moving in his lap, setting a slow and even pace, jaw dropping a bit. "Nngh...Cas. S-so big."  
Cas nodded, whimpering a little himself. His hands moved up and down his body, squeezing at his biceps and  then twisting a little on his nipples. Dean took a sharp inhale and then let out a moan as he began moving faster. Cas thumbed at his left nipple and his other hand went to Dean's perfect cock to edge away any leftover pain.   
Dean was moving up and down, even rolling his hips and moaning with every movement. Cas was meeting his hips as his motions grew faster, watching his face and body as every bit of pleasure passed over his features. Then Dean opened his eyes and they were...green. His pupils were blown wide and Cas almost thought they'd flickered to black again, but he could see the ring of grassy green around the black and he relaxed. Dean began taking Cas deeper and the former angel was meeting Dean's loud moans with ones of his own. "So tight, Dean...god, so good."  
Dean lets out moans that are so filthy and shameless that it makes Cas throb inside of him, which in turn makes Dean moan even louder. He was sure the entire camp knew what they were doing by now.   
Dean is riding him faster and Cas' hand matched the pace perfectly on Dean's dick. He even started to massage his scrotum with it. Dean's upper body was straight and his own hands moved all over it, massaging his nipples and just rubbing at his skin. Cas could feel the pleasure start to boil at the pit of his stomach.   
Cas' entire body was trembling a little and he was just watching Dean move up and down on his cock. He was so gorgeous like this. Open mouth, big green eyes watching Cas, hair disheveled and warm candle-light dancing over his bare skin.   
Dean's own moans were getting breathy at his point, meaning he was getting closer and closer to the edge as well.   
Cas was suddenly overwhelmed by emotion. Watching Dean like that was just...if he had been standing, these feelings along could bring him to his knees. It might be lust, love, or even his rapidly approaching climax; he doesn't know. What he does know is that Dean was his in that moment and that was the best part about it.  
"Cas Cas Cas..." He was moaning, hips moving up and down and back and forth and in circular, figure-eights. "Castiel...Cas...fuck...Cas."  
The CD started over and Pink Floyd is the soundtrack to Dean's orgasm. It took him into his clutches and he was falling, crying out Castiel's name like a loud and filthy prayer. It's almost harmonious to Roger Water's own voice singing 'Don't tell me there's no hope at a-a-allll..."  
And Cas loses it. That's it. The fluttering of Dean's walls around him and Cas' name falling dirty and loud from Dean's swollen lips, along with the spattering of Dean's seed on his chest, neck and chin sends the man hurtling off of the bed and crying out "DEAN" to the ceiling. His release is hot and plenty inside of him and Dean milks him for all he's worth before collapsing on top of him and panting into his ear.  
It took him a few minutes to say "Best. Fucking. Sex. Ever."  
Cas grinned and wrapped his arms around Dean's sweat-sheened torso. "I couldn't agree more."  
Dean sat up a bit and wiped them both off with a corner of the sheet and then leaned over to kiss him deep and long. Cas couldn't help but smile against his lips.  
"I need you." Dean said.  
"I know." Cas smiled. "Cursed or not."  
Dean kissed him again in agreement. "Cursed or not."


End file.
